


Making the Perfect Santa

by ecrituredudesir



Category: Furry (Fandom), Original Work
Genre: Inflation, Large Cock, Male Solo, Masturbation, Other, Rapid weight gain, Weight Gain, cock growth, feeder, magic inflation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredudesir/pseuds/ecrituredudesir
Summary: A YCH Piece for Sam_the_Panda on Furaffinity.The mall is in need of a Santa for the Christmas holidays-- but the mall manager doesn't think Sigryn is quite big enough to be the holly jolly Saint Nick. With the help of a few magic cookies to increase his size, she intends to make up for what he lacks in weight very quickly before the season arrives.





	Making the Perfect Santa

**Author's Note:**

> My commissions are open here:  
> https://www.furaffinity.net/user/sariia/

The stock of applicants for the Westerly Mall’s “Santa” position had been surprisingly thin this year; there was the normal stock of people who were simply a little too suspicious or rough around the edges to consider, there were people who were simply too young, and unfortunately, the only person to fit both the respectable background and size category wasn’t quite… _thick_ enough. At least, not in Marilyn, the Mall Manager’s, opinion. Sigryn held the broad size and the soft, gray mane that would work _magnificently_ as this year’s Santa, but when it came to the pure build of the man… well, he wasn’t quite as soft as one might expect from the jolly Saint Nick that was expected to hoist children to his lap and take their dearest wishes to heart.   
  
That was fine, though. Marilyn had a plan for that, and an old family recipe that was sure to put on a few extra pounds on him just in time for their first opening of the Christmas exhibit. It’d been easy to offer him the job, and just as easy to call him into her office along the top executive floors overlooking the four story mall. Even now, from her windowed office, she could see the display being arranged down at the center courtyard. It was truly a winter wonderland, a fencing of candy cane gates and faux-snow covered Christmas trees, towers of presents and in the middle of it all, Santa’s chair. Practically a throne of plush cushion and it was...just too _big_ for Sigryn.   
  
The same lion who happened to be arriving to her office to fill out his final paperwork right as that particular thought came to her. She caught his appearance in the reflection of her office windows, stepping into the room from the doorway behind her. The woman, a hawk in every sense of the word including species, turned to give him a somewhat...severe smile.  
  
“So glad you could make it.” Marilyn announced simply, welcoming Sigryn to take a seat in one of the chairs facing her desk. She had already laid the cookies she’d baked the nearly magic recipe into on her desk, where they sat, warm and gooey and more than tempting, as she was aware--if Marilyn didn’t know what those cookies were capable of, she might had risked eating one or two herself, but she wanted to ensure there would be no suspicion from Sigryn upon her offering them.   
  
“Thank you,” Sigryn murmured, still somewhat awed at the fact he’d been hired for such an important role-- particularly when he’d mostly been applying as a general helper for the extra money on the side. To be chosen for _Santa_ wasn’t only promising, it was profitable. Likely the best paying job all year for Mall seasonal staff.   
  
“Of course. Before we go over your final hire paperwork and a little bit of training, there’s a few things we should go over. Our Santa suit is in the dry cleaners currently, preparing it for this year, but...you may need to put on a few pounds to make sure it isn’t hanging like skin and bones from you.” She doesn’t cut corners with her firm little criticism, forcing a polite smile regardless though as she gestured to the cookies on the desk. “Why don’t you take a few now to start you off?”   
  
Her works make the offer sound somewhat like a joke, but she’s firm enough about it that Sigryn took the hint quickly enough, reaching forward to take one of the still-warm cookies on instinct alone. Marilyn moved back to her desk, beginning to gather paperwork as the Ruin Lion took a bite from the first cookie, offering a meek grin as the sweetness hit his tongue. He wanted to make this work, of course, and refusing such offers would come off as rude--something he definitely didn’t want before he’d even _started_ working. If she was pleased at his quick attempt to bite half way through the cookie, following it with another quick nibble at the warmth of a chocolate chip, she did an excellent job of not showing it.  
  
“I trust you’ve reviewed the employee handbook on acceptable conduct?” The hawk questioned, not bothering to sit; she knew the side effects of the potion she’d used in the cookie, and she wasn’t uncouth enough to offer him _some_ privacy when the transformation started to take effect.   
  
Sigryn shifted in the seat he’d taken, somewhat surprised that the warmth of the confection seemed to linger--even strengthen-- as it worked its way down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. He took a pause to answer, before finishing off the cookie, giving a firm nod. “I have. Front to back. The only thing I’m not familiar with yet are the specific rules about acting as Santa,” he admitted with some hesitance.  
  
“You’ll receive training for that from our other workers once you go through the rehearsal,” she replied, shuffling a few unimportant papers around to make it seem like she was keeping busier than she actually was-- the anticipation to see if her recipe had worked was almost too great, and so was the satisfaction when she noticed Sigryn reaching forward for another cookie, catching the crumbs in one paw while the other lifted it to his mouth. The news seemed to be a relief to him, regardless, and after a moment, his attention seemed to draw from nervously watching her actions down to his own stomach.   
  
The movement was subtle, but noticeable, particularly after eating the second treat. The warmth in him had expanded, spreading through his torso and belly, but now it was starting to stretch through his thighs and arms as well-- it wasn’t painful, and with some measure of alarm, Sigryn realized that the warming feeling was causing some effects of arousal. He wasn’t able to place it to Marilyn-- a beautiful woman, but not usually his type. Trying to distract himself from the sensation lest he make an embarrassment of himself, he ventured to try another cookie, not knowing just how bad he was setting himself up in the situation.  
  
His discomfort, the quiet squirms rocking his weight in the chair as he took the third treat, was becoming somewhat obvious. It’s a relief to Marilyn to see that her cooking had the desired effect; already she could see a softening of his stomach muscles, the defined muscle there rising slowly like she were watching a loaf of bread bake in an oven. Sigryn wasn’t fully aware of it just yet, considering it wasn’t a rapid swelling of air and the warmth was fully distracting from the fact that his body wasn’t necessarily inflating with air or liquid. No, his muscles were softening gradually, and the magic of the cookie was putting on natural pounds of weight gained.   
  
Just as planned, he was growing to an actually _adequate_ size for a real Santa without even noticing it, at first.   
  
“Pardon me,” Marilyn announced simply, standing straighter at her desk while she moved to take a handful of documents. “I’ll need to go make a few photocopies of this so we can get your payment information before the first rehearsals. This shouldn’t take long.” It’s a hollow promise, considering she was fully aware that his changes would take several minutes, at least, and she’d leave him to the privacy of it.   
  
“Ah, of course-” Sigryn answered, shifting to stand as she moved to make her way out, trying to be polite-- but in the motion to do so, he found his thighs a little more jiggly than they’d been when he’d sat down. Coupled with the fact that the warmth had now settled very firmly in his hips, he was starting to face a problem that he didn’t want Marilyn to notice as she departed the room. Once she was gone though, his breath caught in his throat, and his hand slid down to where his pants had suddenly become _much_ too tight.    
  
Swallowing, he took the hasty moment to (as he foolishly knew) push his pants down to examine himself in pure shock. His cock had slipped free from his sheath, and the lion could only watch in alarm as each little pulse of blood that was sent to it seemed to _change_ him, somehow. The warmth was terrifyingly pleasurable, and it’s only then that he realized that despite seeing his cock standing proud--he couldn’t quite see the base of it for the soft belly that had risen when he’d been eating the cookies in the attempt to distract himself.  
  
Each little movement made it more and more apparent that he was gaining weight, but with an aroused fascination, he couldn’t help but notice the shift of his cock from the tapered tip to a much, much thicker form. Tentatively he reached down, wrapping his hand around the base of his own dick, surprised to find that other than the little regular, normal barbs of skin there, he was forming a much more canine knot. The muscle was tense and swollen at the base, and though he had to deal with the resistance of his body’s new weight keeping him from pressing his hand flush downwards, fisting the knot and adding more pressure around it only made him groan aloud. He could feel the pressure of his pants starting to cut off the circulation of his legs, and his thighs were now pressed tightly together in the chair with little room left to maneuver. The chair gave a dangerous rock as he rolled his hips up, one hand reaching down to force both his boxers and his pants low and off of the curve of his now bare ass. He broke contact with his dick for only long enough to force his pants down to his knees, kicking his feet outwards to gather the material from his knees. It’s a little bit of an effort to get them down his calves from where the added size had swollen him there as well, but with a bit of hasty squirming, it wasn’t long until they were to his ankles. Each movement is rushed and eager, and afterwards, he’s quick to return his hold to where his now-transformed member was practically dripping in excitement with the feeling of heat rising in him. He’d never been this big, and it seemed each time he touched himself, he was _still growing._ If he had been worried about putting on the extra weight, those concerns were more than made up for with the fact he could rival an elephant with his cock size.   
  
His pectorals were softening now, pressing against the swell of his stomach. A now fully pronounced, hefty build was pressing down into the chair, and he knew if he stayed in the small constraints of the arm chair while putting on pounds so quickly, he was at risk of breaking it. Sigryn’s cock continued to grow with each little stroke he gave around it, and it seemed to be growing in proportion to his overall size as well. His thighs, now thick and soft, slid from the chair as he moved to his knees between it and Marilyn’s desk. His knees hit the floor, soft calves now offering a cushion for him to sit against as he rolled his hips upwards. His balls, now thicker and resting atop his plush legs, felt heavier than they normally did as well. He couldn’t see them as well for the size of his stomach and dick now, but he could _feel_ them there, full of the same warmth that had slit through the rest of his body when the feeling from the cookies had settled.   
  
Now, the strain of his shirt across his chest was making it too hard to breathe. It was already strained at the seams, tight across both his swollen, squishy belly, and with the added size to his arms and his shoulders, it was being pushed beyond the brink of any return. With one hand still vigorously rising to the tip of his cock to smear precum down to make his rough movements of jerking off a little smoother, he relied on his free hand to reach up to one shoulder where the seams seemed to be at their weakest, ripping with a renewed force at it. With claws dug in against the fabric, Sigryn shredded the fabric, freeing his stomach to bounce gently downwards, pulling off the rest with now unrestrained sigh of pure relief at no longer being choked by the last of his clothing.   
  
Being found by his new boss like this, his pants pushed down the curve of his full, heavy ass now as he stroked himself vigorously in the desperate attempt at relief, was the last thing on his mind. The only thing Sigryn could think of was getting the relief his newfound cock size was demanding of him, and it took everything he had not to rise and rut against her desk or the nearest soft surface. Fortunately, the size of his member was growing proportionally to the fullness of his belly, now at least six or seven times the size it had been before, his form growing less from its built shape before and now to a fully pear-shape. By now he wouldn’t have been able to reach his cock had it not grown as well.  
  
The arousal kept him from being too startled or terrified of the heavy changes in his shape, but the heat of the moment refused to let up, and each time he jerked his hips against his hand, he found it too hard to wrap fully around himself. Inevitably, he had to add his second hand, both working against each other as it took both to fully encircle the swollen, canine-like cock-- and it’s only when he finally _squeezes_ against the knot that had formed, that he’s finally able to make himself cum.   
  
With a rough groan, now a somewhat deeper pitch from his new size, Sigryn felt his heavy ball sack twitch in conjunction with the thickness of his cock. After such a growth in his genitals, his cum came in excess, and he shamelessly painted several ropes of thick seed against his own fully belly, his thighs, and as he leaned forward to draw out the sensation of the orgasm, against the floor and the front of Marilyn’s desk. Afterwards, he struggles to catch his breath, lips parted with his tongue lolled to one side as he resorts back to one hand, giving himself a few, lingering strokes to finish off the sensation of having been hit with such a powerful orgasm.   
  
It was only then that Marilyn re-entered the room, looking entirely satisfied in herself and the effects of her experiment. The suit, which had conveniently just returned from the dry cleaners, was folded over one of her arms. “That’s more like it,” she congratulated, patting her hand across the exhausted lion’s mane. “You’re going to make a perfect Santa. Let’s get you into that suit.”


End file.
